From Paris, with love ❤

@camille-collier

↳ @camcollier loaded a new photo.

He had almost decided to just start walking anyway, unsure of whether or not he’d made too much of a mess for her to come. Then Rafe saw the headlights and he let a little sigh of relief exit his chest. It was true he hadn’t taken news of Gemma’s cover up well. He had known that pretty much the day after hearing it. After sleeping on it, he could see both sides again, just as he had with Camille. That didn’t stop him from still feeling outrageous fury at her, but as far as he could tell now it was directed at the fact he’d made a fool of himself in front of her. She’d known all along where Camille was and Rafe had tried in vain in obviously not the right places. Camille. He had felt instantaneous guilt the morning after staying at Isaac’s empty apartment. After forgiving her he had gone and left after the Gemma incident had sparked the anger once again. He shouldn’t have left, and he didn’t want to stay away for as many days as he had, but he hadn’t wanted Carrie to catch him in a weak moment; or Camille for that matter. Reaching his hand out to the car door, he let go of his jacket and opened the door. “How’s Shiloh? How are you?” It wasn’t necessarily his first planned question, but her uncle passing wasn’t something he was going to overlook.

The house was clean, too clean perhaps, as she had spent most of the day cleaning and rearranging things in place because she needed to find something that would keep her mind occupied. Carrie was playing outside for the greater part of the day, and though Camille feared the cold would get her sick, Kala reassured her it would be find. It’s not even that cold out yet, Cam. Just relax. I’ll take care of her for today. But having too much time on her hands wasn’t helping her case either. Her mother had called her earlier that day with the news of her uncle— her aunt was, apparently, devastated and her mother didn’t understand why. They’ve been separated for years. He’s in jail. Why would be be mourning Gerard at all. Camille found the commentary somewhat insensitive, and although he wasn’t her uncle by blood, he was still her cousin’s father and a man she only ever knew as family. The news hit her and she found a way to quickly end the call with her mother before the woman could start asking even more questions and would magically figure out that her marriage and life in Charleston wasn’t as perfect as she tried to make it out to be just so that her parents would get off her case. Claire du Pont had a witch instinct, she could figure out anything and everything and Camille was really not feeling like talking about it, or anything, anymore. The text from Rafe only agitated her further. His timing was impeccable, and not for any of the right reasons. It sucked, to be honest, that she felt as though she just had to put up with it, to suck it all up, because she had screwed up first. Because she had walked away once too. Still, she needed the break and the drive would do her good. Kala was home, Carrie was safe, the road was long and the breeze calmed her nerves. Camille honestly pondered on wether or not she should pick her husband up or wait for him to come home, but the car practically drove itself and when she caught sight of him outside the bar, she didn’t even honk to call him, simply drove to him. 

Within the last four months that he had returned home, Camille Collier was a godsend to a father that literally had no clue what to do.  And he was eternally grateful for her putting up with him especially when it came to late night frantic calls on what Alessandra did. Watching her speak motherese, he remember reading a book about how children seemed to favor exaggerated intonations as his lips curved into a smile.”I’ll consider it, Cam. Then again, with these two little ones running around, I wouldn’t want to stress you out even more.” Having handed Aless the bottle, “Again, I’m always so relieved when I call and you answer. Like in the back of my mind, I’m just like -okay cool, she hasn’t changed her number.” He joked remembering earlier on when his year old wasn’t toddling, he was more than overwrought and needed the assurance that it was perfectly normal . As Alessandra ceased her crying, he gave a relieving sigh, “Hey Caroline, go easy on your Mama,” He addressed the young one before looking back to Camille, “I can’t decide whether or not she looks more like you or Rafe.” 

“Oh, please. They’re great together, though, look.” In fact, Camille was glad to see Carrie had taken so well to baby Aless, especially now that she knew she was pregnant and soon this would be her life, having a baby on one hip and a handful-toddler on the other. Besides, she didn’t mind Mason at all. He was a good friend amidst it all, and he needed the help. She would’ve offered regardless of their friendship, knowing very well the struggle of being a single parent in the modern world. Laughing, the blonde helped Aless take on the bottle before, Carrie cooing something that sounded very much like gibberish but it was a perfect code-switching between English and French in her best efforts to try and soothe the smaller child. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve heard I’m pretty good at disappearing. If that were the case, Mase, be sure I won’t go to Paris again. Too obvious now. And I can’t be sure either. I want to say me but she does look a lot like her papa. Just... a very, very, utterly ameliorated, much much better version of either of us. So is this princess here. Have you figured out what you’re going to do for day care?”